Four Days After
by Hiddengrace
Summary: Rachel and Finn deal with the aftermath of winning Regionals, while the club tries to come up with songs for this week's assignment. Finn is faced with his hypocrisy and Rachel is torn between love and what is right. Quinn/Finn; T for curses
1. Chapter 1: Triumph

**A/N: **Chapters will alternate between the points of view of Finn and Rachel. Super thanks to Written Sparks, my beta. Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated.

**Finn:**

Tuesday after school Quinn and I head to the cafeteria for those coffee-smoothie things I can never remember the name of. She's got this cat-like smile on her face and I wonder what she's thinking. With Rachel, I could always tell what she was thinking, mostly because she told me. But Quinn is different. She's sly and clever. And she feels so good, so fresh, so new, even though she's nothing but new to me. But I shouldn't think about that now. The sun is glaring in from the windows and I think about this weekend, shifting my eyes away from the windows and onto her face. Maybe we should go on a picnic, get away from it all.

"They're frappuccinos, Finn, for the hundredth time," she says without bitterness in her honey smooth voice. "So, here's what I'm thinking. You and I are a shoo-in for prom king and queen. Everyone knows it, but we have to start actively campaigning. We're already back on top, we just have to make sure everyone knows it. Get our names out there with no… misconceptions."

Huh? Misconceptions? But I nod anyways as she talks ceaselessly. I don't want to hear any more about Rachel and I have a feeling that's what she means. Right now, she seems very fragile, very sensitive, and I think the best thing I can do is agree with whatever she wants. And what Quinn wants is what I want. I think. At least it should be, right?

"You and I are the brand new Finn and Quinn, and everyone needs to know. So I've started drafting homecoming posters. But not those cheesy glittery handmade ones. Those are for losers. I'm working on some graphics for our posters. They'll look professional, trust me. Nationals won't be for a while but prom is coming up super quick and we need to be prepared. Fabson!" she says excitedly.

What the hell? "Fabson?" I manage, as we near the Glee room. I can hear bubbly chatter from inside. Everyone is still super excited about the sectionals win and probably already discussing Nationals in New York. Hell, it's New York! I remembered singing Empire State of Mind at the beginning of this year. It felt so far away then, but now it's really going to happen.

"It's us, babe! Fabray-Hudson? I've been talking about it for a week now. It's part of our campaign. Don't you ever listen to me?" Quinn gives me a "we'll talk about it later look" which means I know she'll put it off for now but nag me later. The truth is, sometimes I don't always listen to her, and a quarter of the time I don't understand half of what she says. And half the time I just don't pay attention.

She swings open the door to the Glee room and removes her sunglasses. We take seats in the second row, far left, and Quinn fluffs out her blonde hair and arranges her curls. She takes my hand in hers and smiles almost angelically.

Mr. Schuester walks in, and he's as hyper as the rest of the group. It's as if everyone has yet to come down from the high of winning. He takes a moment to stare the super awesome trophy that's being temporarily housed in here before turning his full attention to us. They're moving it to a trophy case in the hall later this week, but they have to make room for it or something.

"Okay guys. I can't tell you enough how proud I am of you all for stepping it up to write the songs you did." Mr. Shuester gushes happily. He smiles broadly and his gestures are all over the place in excitement. He looks like a teenager as everyone whoops and claps. I know how they feel. It's like when I went from football god to glee dork. But all of our hard work has paid off. No one can bring us down, no one.

"We won because they came from the heart and they were personal to all of us. No one else had that. Sure, we call all identify with songs we hear on the radio, but they don't say what's in our hearts for each of us. And that's why we won, because we made it intimate and personal."

"So, this week is going to be a kind of break for us. I think we should decide as a group if we want to write more original songs or not for Nationals, but I'd like everyone to think about it and we'll talk about it next week. This week's theme is Triumph." He writes it on the board capital blue letters.

My eyes dart over to Rachel. I can't help but remember how she looked at me when she sang "Good Enough." Quinn was pissed about it, for sure, but I thought it was great. Rachel is being unusually quiet and it's almost scary. I seal another glance at her and think about how for someone who should be so happy she looks so sad.

"Winning! Something that doesn't happen for us very often. And something that I hope will happen more. However you spell Triumph, whether it be victory or winning, success or the start of something new, or feeling special, find a song that embodies triumph to sing this week." He looks directly at Rachel as he says the last part and I can swear that Quinn's eyes narrow. But in a flash she's back to normal, rubbing her nails lightly over my arm and it gives me the shivers.

"Wait," Brittany asks softly as she plays with her headband. "Triumph and winning are spelled the same way?" Santana knocks her in the arm as Mr. Shuester ignores them. Those two have been acting pretty weird lately, I think. Artie puts his arm around Brittany and pulls her a little closer.

"I want everyone to sing this week. So pair up or do a solo. But I want to hear what triumph means to each and every one of you. Celebrate your win! That's it guys!"

"Awesome!" Artie says loudly. "Me and my girl are gonna hit up Breadsticks."

"Yeah baby!" She trills, wheeling him out with a strut. I wonder if this means that Quinn will want to talk to me about prom again. Maybe I can get out of it. Sam and Puck are chatting about something, and I strain to listen.

But she's back on it already. "So what song do you want to do? I was thinking Rhythm of Love, or All In. Ooh, what about Life After You?" Her eyes are large and round, and she's staring at me expectantly. As if I could come up with a choice fifteen seconds after the assignment is announced.

"But those aren't about winning," I half question, half state confusedly.

"But it's personal. Mr. Shue said it could be personal. I think they can personal for us, you know? Back together again. I love Life After You. It's so perfect for us. We've just got change the pitching and turn it into a duet."

"Sounds great. If you think it's perfect, then I'm sure it is. I've got to get home to help Kurt make dinner." I give her a kiss. On the lips. It feels kind of strange, but good, to be able to kiss her in public. "I'll call you later".

I can see Rachel watching us as she leaves the Glee room. She's pretending she's not, but she is. I can see it in her eyes as she talks to Mercedes. She's acting like she's super excited about whatever Mercedes is babbling about, but her eyes don't look excited. They look sad.

"Oh, okay," Quinn responds, following my eyes unhappily. "Great." She grabs my hand and smiles broadly. She adjusts her sunglasses again and we walk out together into the sun.

When I get home I help Kurt make dinner since my mom is working late. Kurt is a better cook anyway. He gives me the little jobs, as if he couldn't possibly trust me with anything larger than dicing onions and washing lettuce.

"I'm sorry your bird died," I say uncomfortably, noticing the amount of food he was cooking. It looked like he was cooking for an army. I didn't know what to say, really, and he's been unusually silent.

All I get is a thanks as he mashes avocadoes angrily. "Why are you so pissed off, Kurt? I thought you'd be singing and dancing after what happened with Blaine. He likes you. Isn't that what you've been waiting for since you met him? Is this about regionals?" I don't mean to be rude, but Kurt is not normally a person who withholds how he's feeling. I bite my lip waiting for his response, wondering if it's going to make me angry. If he brings up this whole disaster of my relationships I won't be happy. But hopefully he won't.

"Finn Hudson," he says icily. "For someone who is so smart you can be such an idiot sometimes! No, this is not about Blaine, and nor is it about regionals. It is about you being a total hypocrite." He turns to face me, and grips the counter with both hands. He looks as if he is straining to hold on.

"How am I a hypocrite?" I ask, startled. Kurt and I have had our differences, sure, but we always managed to get along. Especially since our parents got married, we've both been making an effort to play nice. I've found that when Kurt isn't crushing on me or redecorating my room, I actually kind of like him. But it's obvious he doesn't feel the same.

He stares at me before rolling his eyes. I wonder if he's going to play the "if you don't know I'm not going to tell you" game. But instead he turns around, furiously shredding chicken for tacos. I know Kurt, and he's trying to figure out how to say what he wants in the best and most precise way. It comes out in one word. "Quinn."

"Not this. Not you." I say with a sigh. "Really Kurt."

"No. Listen to me Finn. You are my brother and my friend and this means I have to be honest with you. You are messing this up. You broke up with Rachel because she fooled around with Noah, right? Because she did it to hurt you on purpose?" He drops half the chicken into a container, and places it into a pink and teal lined wicker thing. He portions out half of the guacamole and spoons it delicately into another container.

I'm not sure where this is going. "Ye-es. But…"

"No buts, Finn. So you break up with Rachel because you couldn't take how bad she hurt you.. Yet you run into Quinn's arms. Quinn. Who not only had sex with Noah but she got pregnant with his child. He was your best friend then, Finn! You don't care that she lied to you and was probably sleeping with him for god knows how long. But she was a virgin," he whispers with another eye roll.

"And then," he says, raging now, eyes glaring, "and then she tells you it's your baby. How you could be dumb enough to believe it, I don't know, but you do. And she keeps lying to you for what, six months until the truth comes out. And even though everyone else knows, it's Rachel who makes her tell you. But you don't see that."

"And now," he continues, apparently unable to stop himself, "she bats those eyes at you and fluffs her blonde hair and you're back in her arms. And you think she did all that because she didn't want to hurt you? She lied for months with good intentions. And then she cheated on Sam with you. But I suppose you think it's okay because she was cheating with you, not on you" Kurt scoffs, spins around and stacks the rest of the taco stuff in his stupid little basket.

"What the hell, Kurt?" I yell. You're supposed to be my brother, for goodness sake. You're supposed to be on my side!"

"I don't have to be on your side, Finn. I don't have to be on anyone's side. But I am your friend, and that's why I'm telling you this." I can't even look at the stupid basket, so I stare at the floor as he pointedly picks it up and rests the handle in the crook of his elbow . "I am on your side, which is what you don't seem to get," he says, near inaudibly and I have to strain to hear.

I just stare at him, unable to find words for a moment. "Yeah, you care about me so damn much Kurt," I sneer. Now it's my turn to yell. "I loved her. She destroyed me! That's what_ you_ don't seem to get!"

"And now, just like that, you're over her? That's not real love then, Finn." His tone is softer now. More caring then before, and I try to think about what he's saying but all I can picture is Rachel in the arms of Puckerman, again.

"I don't know anymore, Kurt," I say. "But I know I can't get over what she did."

"What Rachel did." It's not a question. "But Quinn didn't break your heart, then? Maybe you should think about why it is that Rachel hurt you so much, huh? Why you can run back to Quinn after all she did but you can't forgive Rachel?"

He pauses, and then says more softly. "I'm going to Rachel's. There's enough food in the fridge for you and mom and Burt. I'll be back later."

So that's how Kurt knows about Sam and why he's on Rachel's side. They've never been best friends, but obviously they are now. It's not like I wanted to hurt Rachel. But after what happened, I think it was for the best. I never thought she would hurt me the way she did. He acts like I wanted to hurt Rachel, that I intended to break up with her for Quinn. It's not that easy. But sometimes I don't know. It's so hard. What I like about Rachel is that she tries so hard, but what I like about Quinn is that she doesn't have to try.


	2. Chapter 2: What Do All the People Know?

**A/N: **Thanks to my superstar Beta reader, written_sparks. I love all the reviews, keep 'em coming!

**Rachel:**

Every time I close my eyes, I see a quick succession of four kisses, and I think these kisses somehow sum up my life. I know that sounds quite dramatic and pedestrian, but I can't help but feel that way. Without Finn, I feel empty. I blink hard, and see Quinn and Finn kissing, his hand resting gingerly on her small baby bump, a dreamy smile on her face when they part. I'm watching them and wishing, hoping that could be me instead of her. Not the pregnancy part, of course, but the kissing Finn Hudson part. I feel so young and small until the scene in my mind shifts.

Now it is us kissing, him and I. He tells me he loves me when we pull apart. My smile is different from Quinn's, and I feel special, whole. And then I'm kissing Noah. It's brief, and the passion is faked. He pulls away from me, says he can't do this. And then Quinn is kissing Finn again, their hands intertwined, a renewed smile of victory on her face. Story of my life.

"That was the bomb," Mercedes says loudly, smiling, her arm around Kurt, shaking him slightly. Mercedes is here mostly because Kurt made tacos, I think. We never really were friends. Both of us headstrong divas and we often clashed. I glance around and everybody looks so warm and happy. Well, Mercedes does. Kurt looks about as strained as I feel. After winning Regionals I was floating around on air. And that lasted less than a day. I watched as they pretended to be happy for me, but I guess they were really just happy about winning, happy that I did the work and Quinn didn't have to lift a finger. And I feel worse today. How can I sing a song about success when I don't have the one thing I want most? When I didn't succeed?

"Thanks Kurt," I say, swirling my chip into the last of the guacamole. I nibble on it as Mercedes gushes her thanks. We're hanging out in my basement. Last time we were down here together was the night I kissed Blaine. I'm pretty sure Kurt has forgiven me, though. I can't believe I thought the kiss was incredible. I'm really happy for him. Right now what Kurt deserves is a little happiness. But I can't help wonder why I don't.

"So Blaine?" I ask Kurt, interrupting their discussion on guacamole and whether it's best to use lemon or lime. I'm trying to be happy here, and maybe if I focus on someone else's happiness I'll start to feel that way too. I think about how awkward it can be at that stage of a relationship, how unsure you are in the beginning.

"I know he likes me. I just don't know what to do now. I've never been in a relationship like this. Not one that means so much. I've been in love with him for ages and now that he likes me too I'm a little scared." Kurt shivers, his shoulders shaking,and there's a small smile on his lips. He wipes his hands and then adjusts his sleeves, unfolding and re-folding them.

"Kurt, you are seriously the most awesome person I know. He loves you," Mercedes says in her throaty voice. "He's a moron if he doesn't." She takes a chip, crunches on it, and then pushes her plate away.

I'm trying to focus, I swear. But my mind keeps running back to regionals, to "Get it Right." Why couldn't he have just said something, anything? I knew it was a stupid thing to do, but I hoped that if I reminded him of how he once felt maybe he would feel that way again**.** I could hear it in my mind still. "Listen carefully, because I mean every word of it." I tried to sound brave, strong, but I wanted to cling to him and never let go.

He says he's my friend, which is the biggest cop-out of all. He doesn't want to be my friend; he just doesn't want to hurt me. But what hurts the most is looking at him every day, thinking about him every night. I'm obsessing over what he thought about my song, what he thought about when I said I meant every word. It was probably the hardest thing I've ever done, writing that song. And if it didn't make him love me again, I don't know what will.

Mercedes and Kurt are still chattering incessantly. I am happy for Kurt. But you know how they say misery loves company, and right now I'm as miserable as it gets. Worse than before, when I watched them in the hallways in the beginning: the cheerleading captain and the football quarterback. They were the perfect couple in high school terms. But I know he loved me once, I can't forget about it. I can't stop thinking about why he chose her, again. It was kind of nauseating, actually, the way I practically worshipped him. The way she won, again. The way she parades him around like a dog in a show or the best stuffed animal you can win at a carnival. It's starting to make me sick, literally, and so I snap out of my reverie with a hand on my heart. How cliché.

"So," I interrupt. I can't control thecompletely unnecessary bossy tone to my voice. "The reason I asked you guys over here is because I need your help." Mercedes and Kurt stare at me for a moment, looking slightly bewildered. I know I can be selfish sometimes, but I do need their help. It's not that I don't want to talk about Kurt and Blaine, because I do care about them. But right now if I don't talk about this I think I'll explode. Possibly with vomit.

"I need help picking my song this week." Kurt stares at me bemusedly, but he shakes it off. He knew why I invited them here, so we could discuss the situation while my dads were out. I know what he's thinking, that I'm selfish and self-centered. I am, I know I can be, but right now I can't help it. "Picking the right song is very important to me," I finish lamely.

"This week's theme is Triumph," Mercedes explains, an irritated tone to her voice. She leans back into her chair and waits for what's coming.

"But it's supposed to be personal. And I want mine to be very personal," I declare. I wanted to sound forceful but came out sounding like an impatient child.

"Not this again, Rachel," Kurt sighs. He immediately begins tidying the mess we made: clearing plates and sweeping crumbs from the table. He heard all about it before Regionals, though I assume he knows more than I've told him.

"I've kind of had a breakthrough on this and I need help." I know what my friends are thinking. I'm not an easy person to be friends with. I pick lint off my tights to avoid looking at them.

"Another one?" Mercedes asks, while Kurt says, "What is it this time?"

"Well, I had wanted to do that Monroe's song, "What Do All the People Know". But I don't think that's quite right. I want something that screams how I feel."

"I thought that was the point of "Get it Right". That you would keep trying until you did. You got your message across," Mercedes says, her forehead wrinkled. "And we kicked ass!"

"I know, that was the point. And that is how I feel, but I need to something for this assignment, something different," I say, wringing my hands. "And now I'm not sure if "Get it Right" was the right message." I feel as if I'm just confusing them more so I say, "I promise I'll explain if you guys sing with me." I'm not trying to play games here. Really I'm not, but sometimes I get a feeling in me so strong and the only way I can get it out is to sing. Some people drink or do drugs. I sing.

I think Kurt knows it's best to just let me get on with it. Mercedes gifts me with an eye roll before standing up with the two of us on the makeshift stage. I grab the pink bedazzled microphone and pop in the tape. Kurt and Mercedes stand on either side of me as we sing.

"You know I told you once tonight

That you could always speak your mind

You work so hard to say what's right

I watch you do it all the time"

I put all my effort into it, belting it out like I'm in a crowd full of people. It's funny. When I sing it relaxes me. I don't think about the lyrics, but when I sing it just comes out and I can actually think about other things. Finn, of course. That's all I can think about. I thought we would always be together. I hate not feeling good enough. Second place. I wonder if loving him is really the right thing after all that's happened and what he did to me.

I know I'm not totally innocent, believe me. I squeeze my eyes shut and four kisses play out in my mind again, blurring into one save for point of view and people. I'm looking at Finn a few seats down, full of longing as Blaine and Kurt sing "Candles." But a moment later when Quinn leans into him during their Pink number, I feel disheartened. Everyone else is laughing and dancing in their seats, and I try to be happy.

"And when I called you on the phone

You said that I could be the one

But here I'm standing all alone

And you're out lying in the sun"

My mouth moves and sound comes out, but it feels robotic. Not to say that it sounds bad, because I could never sing poorly. I remember Quinn telling me that Finn and I could never work out. But it was real between us. He did choose me over her. I may be more than a Lima loser, but I do belong here, and I do deserve a happy ending. "You live in this little schoolgirl fantasy of life. If you keep looking for that happy ending, then you are never gonna get it right." She's yelling at me, on her pedestal, her high horse. I should really thank her for inspiring my song.

"Lately I am so confused

I really don't know what to do

Could you be the one I'm thinking of?

Could you be the girl I really love?

All the people tell me so

But what do all the people know"

Mercedes and Kurt join in at the chorus. I change the line around to "Could I be the girl you really love?" instead and they follow me. It's Regionals again, and I'm singing "Get it Right." Hoping, praying, crying in the here and now. He's looking at me from backstage, looking at me with hope, his mouth formed into a small 'O'. He's standing next to me, his arm on my shoulder as we run to the front to the stage to the slushie cart in "Loser like Me," but I know we're both acting, faking what was once easy camaraderie.

When I collapse back into my chair at the end of the song, I'm audibly panting. Not from the singing, but from the obstacle course of time my mind just ran through in a little under three minutes.

"Thanks, guys," I say with asmile, and my acting skills are sub-par today; it feels false even to me and so my smile fades quickly. "I wanted to do that song, "King of Anything," you know? Let little miss prom queen know that I see right through her. Let Finn know that he hasn't changed my feelings despite what happened. But I don't think it's quite right."

"Why don't you make it a mash-up? Incorporate that song and something else, something that says you're not finished yet," Kurt replies. I think he's on to something. Hell, if I can write a song I can make a mash-up.

"I really want to thank you guys," I say sincerely. It's kind of lame, but I hold my cup up in the center of the table, hoping they'll toast with me. "To the three best voices in Glee club!" I'm being a bit hyperbolic, but I'm also really grateful to the two of them.

"Two," Kurt says, and I can't tell if he's happy or sad about this fact.

"Hell no," Mercedes announces. "Three." Kurt leans into Mercedes for a hug, and it's silent for a little while.

"Can you please enlighten us to your breakthrough now?" Mercedes asks as the conversation lulls. I know she's not trying to be mean; I think she's just impatient. We're not really close, and I think Kurt is more of a buffer between us.

"I love Finn." I state calmly. I get another eye roll from Mercedes and two identical "duh" looks. I take a deep breath, because saying this makes me sad. "But I'm not sure if I should."

There's silence as my friends think about how to respond. Kurt is famous for this. "But sweetie, we all know that if Finn had a change of heart and said that he loved you and wanted to be with you, you'd melt and forget everything you just said." He speaks forcefully but not rudely. He also speaks truthfully.

I steel myself to say what's been on my mind all night. "No. I love Finn, from the bottom of my heart, but if he can choose her over me after what she did to him, than I shouldn't want to love him anymore." Kurt puts his arm around me. I think he is starting to realize the gravity of my situation and I think I'm going to cry. Tears are threatening to run down my cheeks and I wipe them away before they can escape.

"But you do," Kurt says. "And you can't help it." My mind goes to Blaine, how Kurt was so pissed about the kissing thing, how bad I must have made him feel.

"You've been in love with him for ages," Mercedes says finally. "Sometimes you can't help who you love." I'm grateful to her for saying that, for not being a total diva about it. And for caring when I have never, ever been this nice to her.

"I love him," I say. I really do. It's something I've ached for for so long. I had it for a moment but then it was gone and I'm longing again. I feel like I amforever longing for him. "But I shouldn't want to anymore. If he can be with her after all the… shit she's pulled, and all the lies she's told then he's a hypocrite. I don't like people like that and I shouldn't want to be with someone like that." I know I'm being a little hypocritical myself, but my intentions are always pure. Except for that one time with the crack house. And hey, I did apologize. I remember how Finn had seen through my lies and bullshit right away when everyone else believed what I said. I did do it for the group, but mostly I did it for me.

"It's funny," Kurt says, a gleam in his eyes. A smirk plays on his lips and I stare. Funny ha-ha or funny weird?

"What? Why?" I ask, overly concerned.

"I said about as much to him earlier," Kurt replies, and I beam.

The next day, I arrive early as per usual, to sing my morning warm up. It sets the tone for the day, and I usually sing a song that mirrors my feelings. I practice writing the lyrics to my assignment in the auditorium at lunch, scribbling furiously while munching on my hummus, red pepper and sprout sandwich. School goes by quickly save for algebra, my last class of the day. Even though it's normally an easy class for me, I can't help but daydream. I doodle in my notebook instead of focusing on equations. The only equation I could solve for sure is Finn + Rachel = Love, but I'm not sure it even equates anymore.

SoI imagine myself on Broadway instead, playing Maria and singing "Tonight" to a faceless Tony in the famous fire escape scene. My pale nightgown billows in a staged breeze, my brown hair in Rita Hayworth-worthy curls, as I grasp at the bars of the fire escape. When I sing the audience is mesmerized, my words floating on air. My Tony always used to be Finn, singing to me through the bars of the fire escape. But now it's no one. Why couldn't I have constructed a scene where I don't need a man to sing to?

Thinking about it now, I almost want to cut Glee. Which is silly because it's not a class, it's a club, and I'm co-captain. Cutting is pretty much against my moral code anyway. SoI unbutton the cardigan over my navy dress and march down the hall, mary-janes clacking against the floor. The afternoon sun is shining and I dawdle at the door. Mock United Nations Club, I can handle. Glee Club, I'm not so sure about.

I compose myself, and pull open the door. I try to pay attention to everyone but after last night I feel more confused, more miserable. Everyone is listening in as Santana dishes the dirt on how Lieutenant Governor whoever's wife is threatening a lawsuit against Ms. Sylvester. I skirt around the group's huddle, carefully avoiding Quinn and Finn, and stand by Tina and Brittany.

Mr. Schue comes in, drops his stuff on the desk, and tells the band to hit it. Papers shuffle, and Mr. Schuester pivots dramatically on the balls of his feet, his corduroy jacket flaring up in the turn. The band starts a familiar Queen song, and I am immediately reminded of last year's Sectionals and Jesse St. James singing Bohemian Rhapsody and egg on my face. I shake it off, though I can't help but feel insecure as Mr. Schue busts a move. Everyone joins in on the song, and I try to get lost in it too, until it deviates to "We Will Rock You" and I realize it's a mash-up. Very appropriate, but I can't help but be a little upset that I'm not alone in my creative idea.

"I've paid my dues  
Time after time  
I've done my sentence  
But committed no crime  
And bad mistakes  
I've made a few  
I've had my share of sand kicked in my face  
But I've come through"

I sing along and think this song could have literally been written about me. Haven't I always come through when I need to? Haven't I always tried to do the right thing? I snap out of my thoughts as Puck, Sam, and Finn stomp their feet loudly. Everyone else is clapping, singing and having a great time. Glee used to be the best part of my day. I'm in my element here, but my heart is just not in it anymore. I know I could never get over Finn, and Quinn made it clear she's not taking her claws out of him any time soon. If I belong anywhere, it's here, but just like my love for Finn, I'm not sure I want to any more.

Hey everyone! I just created a forum for Glee prompts and inspiration. Come join if you're looking for inspiration!


End file.
